Two Weeks Notice
by Rebellicade
Summary: "Picking out a dress to wear is something you can do by yourself, you looked fine a while ago." "Yes, then I met you, Enjy–" "Don't call me that." "And now, I have to run every single decision I make by you, because you're just that brilliant. Isn't it flattering?" Gabriel Enjolras has the most infuriating boss in the entire world.


**Two Weeks Notice  
**by **rebellicade  
**inspired by **the movie of the same name**

* * *

**Summary: **"Picking out a dress to wear is something you can do by yourself, you looked fine a while ago." "Yes, then I met you, Enjy–" "Don't call me that." "And now, I have to run every single decision I make by you, because you're just that brilliant. Isn't it flattering?" Gabriel Enjolras has the most infuriating boss in the entire world.

**AN**: My dad and I were the only ones at home, so we decided to watch majority of the movies that HBO was showing that day. Two Weeks Notice was the last movie I watched before going to bed. My brain started putting things together. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I own neither Two Weeks Notice nor Les Miserables.

**Word Count:** 2574 words, 11689 characters, not counting the ANs.

* * *

**prologue**

_emergencies_

* * *

**November 5, 2012 – 3:12am**

_Emergency!_ _***Éponine***_

It's three in the morning.

That's the only thing that Gabriel Enjolras can register. His phone woke him up at three in the morning. He quickly reads the text message and realizes that it's his _boss_ woke him up at three in the morning.

He considers not going, because the last time she texted him saying it was an emergency, it was for a tennis racket, but she wouldn't wake him up in the middle of the night for something as stupid as that, right?

Right?

When he tries calling her, she doesn't pick up, so he starts to believe that maybe it _is_ an emergency.

Not a lot of cabs are in sight, even after waiting for five minutes, and decides to walk there. Just walk, really fast.

He arrives at _La Musain _his hair all disheveled, plus his clothes are pretty much just the first things that he grabbed the darkness, but they're okay. He is still pretty groggy from waking up.

He walks to the elevator, and presses the button that'll lead him to the penthouse. He yawns as he makes his way through the apartment that has majority of its lights still on. The brightness hurts his eyes. He sees her sitting on the couch in the living room calmly.

She is wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts and looking through her phone, bored. This is _definitely_ not an emergency.

"Oh, Enjy, good, you're here." he hears her say, "I have an emergency." She says it in a way that's not urgent at all.

"Doesn't look like it." he mutters, going over to her, and he is glad she didn't hear him. But that still isn't any reason to replace the frown on his face with a smile.

"I can't sleep."

"I _was_."

Éponine frowns. "You were sleeping? Sorry."

"You don't just call people at three in the morning and tell them it's an emergency when it's obviously not!" he snaps, "Read a book or something. Can I go now?"

"Quiet. You'll wake Gavroche." she says, then after a pause: "Someone's not a morning person."

"No, I _am_ a morning person, really, but not when it's _three in the_."

"I still can't sleep." Éponine says, "Reading a book _does_ seem like a good idea though. Which one should I read?"

"Twilight." he deadpans, "Don't ask me."

After thirty minutes, give or take, which consisted of Gabriel Enjolras reading the first and second chapter of Harry Potter to Éponine Jondrette (plus her complaints about his lousy fake British accent) he finally goes home.

* * *

**December 25, 2012 – 7:47pm**

_Emergency. Please come._ _***Éponine***_

He doesn't know if he should believe her this time.

It's Christmas Day, and he's already had dinner with his parents, in which his father would continue pointing out all the things that Enjolras has done wrong with his life, and his mother would pinch his cheek countless times and talk about how much she missed her baby boy. Yesterday, he already had the _Les Amis_ party that his friends throw every year, where Courf proposed to Jenna.

Of _course_ it wouldn't be complete without Éponine texting.

When he arrives there, she is playing _94 Seconds_ on her iPad, and he can tell so because the moment he arrives she shouts. "Quick! Unit of measurement, J!"

"Joule." he replies, rolling his eyes. "You said it was an emergency."

She pauses her game to look at him. "I'm lonely."

He sighs and sits down on the other end of the couch. "We should really come up with a list of things that count as an emergency."

She shrugs. "We can do that now." she suggests, "That _might_ be fun."

"Where's 'Vroche anyway?"

She hesitates. "At a friend's place."

He raises an eyebrow. "On Christmas Day?"

"Yeah." she nods, "Were you doing something? It's too early to be sleeping this time."

He doesn't believe her, but doesn't press it anymore. "I wasn't doing anything this time." he says, "Just came home from dinner with my parents."

"The ones that hate me?"

"Do I have any other parents?" he says.

* * *

**January 11, 2013 – 4:15pm**

_GAVROCHE EMERGENCY. ***Éponine***_

Maybe it's because he has a soft spot for the little guy, but the moment he receives the text, he apologizes to 'Ferre, but it doesn't really matter because 'Ferre was going to beat him at chess anyway.

He feels lucky this time because they're in the same building, and he doesn't have to borrow a car from anyone because he sucks at driving and he doesn't want to have to pay for a cab.

He takes the elevator to go upstairs and when he sees Gavroche, he is simply sitting down in a chair in front of a table with a bunch of books spread out in front of him. He walks up to him and sees a pencil broken in half and a bunch of doodles on pad paper.

"Need any help?"

Gavroche hears him and turns around. A bright smile instantly appears on his face and the little guy hugs him before he can protest. Enjolras doesn't really _hug_ people, so when 'Vroche does, he stiffens.

"Enjy!" Gavroche exclaims.

"You're sister taught you that, didn't she?" he says, sighing.

He frowns. "Do I have to stop?"

Enjolras hesitates for a while before replying. "No, you're an exception." he says, "But don't tell _any_ of the _amis_."

"Fiiiinnnnee." he says, "Why are you here, anyways?"

"Your sister texted me saying that there was an emergency. Involving you."

He doesn't even notice Éponine standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "He needs help with his French homework; I only know French curses and that's all thanks to _you_ because you're fluent."

"That isn't an emergency."

"On our emergency list, the thirteenth number is _situations involving Gavroche_." she says, nonchalant, "And I believe that this _is_ a situation involving Gavroche. Please?"

He takes a seat next to 'Vroche and gives a tiny nod of his head and Éponine hugs him and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, which he rubs off childishly afterwards.

"Sorry about my sister." Gavroche says, "She really appreciates you, though, really."

_She better,_ he thinks.

* * *

**February 14, 2013 – 5:07pm**

Jenna _really_ wanted the wedding to be on Valentine's Day. Everything is so perfect. Red, pink and white roses decorate the church and the bridesmaids are all in pink. The bride is wearing a lovely white dress, Courf's suit isn't that bad and Grantaire is the best man, but anybody can tell he's still kind of hungover from the bachelor party the night before.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness Jenna Prouvaire and Michel Courfeyrac in the sacrament of Holy–"

A phone rings.

The priest stops talking, as the audience looks around. The bride smiles awkwardly, waiting for the person who is interrupting _her_ wedding to turn off their phone, and stop that annoying sound. However, Courf looks to the left, at one of his groomsmen.

Enjolras suddenly realizes what's happening. He pulls a phone out of his pocket, and quickly reads the text.

_EMERGENCYEMERGENCYEMERGENCY. ***Éponine***_

"Sorry, I've got to go." he says, "My boss–"

Jenna sighs, all too familiar with this behavior, and Courfeyrac lets him go. Gabriel Enjolras does not know if it's appropriate to run out of a church, so he settles for walking briskly, almost tripping in the process.

He immediately calls a cab, thankfully one just dropped off another passenger, and he gets into the taxi and wonders what had happened with his boss.

He already gave her a list of things that fell under the term _emergency_. Near death, the business is falling apart, actual death, severe depression that may lead to suicide, rape, animals trying to kill her which may result in death, etc.

The cab gets stuck in traffic. "_Merde_." he says, "You can drop me off here." he adds to the cab driver.

"We're in the middle of the road." he replies, blankly.

"It's an emergency." Enjolras replies. "Drop me off here."

He hears the doors unlock, and he would smile if he weren't so worried. He leaves a bill in the back seat; he doesn't even know how much and rushes out of the car.

It would definitely be undignified of him to run all the way down to the building, but it isn't too far now, so he pushes all thoughts of the embarrassment it would cause him and starts to run. If only Jenna's stupid suit would let him go faster.

When he walks into the door of the hotel, _La Musain_, his hair is already an absolute mess. 'Ferre welcomes him.

He stops thinking about 'Ferre and more about his boss, choosing the more important person at the moment. He boards the elevator, and gets off at the penthouse, for the umpteenth time and when the door opens, he runs a hand through his hair and steps inside.

"Éponine?"

"Gabriel!" she shouts, "I'm in the closet! I need your help!"

"Coming!" he replies. He's already all too familiar with the place to know how to navigate his way through the huge penthouse. To the right, then make a left turn and go straight. He is expecting her trapped, held at gunpoint, or hopefully _anything_ of the sort.

Instead she is standing in her walk-in-closet, crossing her arms. Her long brown hair is curled and all fixed up, and she's wearing a beautiful, brown dress to match it. There is a nice cup of coffee on the table next to the red chair in the middle, and her brown eyes are scanning a wall of countless dresses.

"I need your help." she says again, less loud because she knows he's in the room despite not looking at him. "We have some charity thing tonight, another totally boring thing, I mean why can't we just give them the money without the whole gala? Anyway, I don't know what to wear."

Enjolras narrows his eyes at her. "You called me out of a _wedding_ because you didn't know what to wear." He blinks at her. He is not asking a question; rather he says this statement through gritted teeth.

"You were in a wedding?" she turns to face him, "No wonder you look so good."

"Éponine!" he exclaims, exasperated.

"Right, right." she says, rolling her eyes. "You didn't have to leave the wedding, you know."

"You said it was an emergency!" he says, "I thought you were dead!"

Éponine smiles. "Aww… Enjy cares about me!"

"Don't call me that!" he says, "What happened to list of things that qualify as an emergency?"

"I lost it." she says, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, what color dress do you think I should wear tonight, just so we can narrow it down?"

Enjolras sighs. "Majority of the things on that list is near death, and death itself. And look at you; you're not dead! And when you called me in the middle of the night, because you didn't know what book to read, you weren't dead. When you called me a month ago on Christmas Day because you were lonely, you weren't dead. When you made me come over to help 'Vroche with his homework, you weren't dead. And every single other time when you needed me, telling me it was an emergency, you still weren't dead!"

She is quiet for a while. "If it helps," she says, "I'll die eventually. Now, Enjy, back to the subject at hand–"

"My name is _Gabriel Enjolras_. Pick either one to say, no nicknames."

She ignores him. "What dress to wear?"

He sighs; again. Éponine tends to do that to him. "What's wrong with the dress you're wearing now?"

"I look fat."

_Women._ "You don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Your waistline is one of the thinnest things I've seen in my entire life."

"Bollocks, but thank you. I don't want to wear this dress." she says, "Tell me which one I should wear."

"A red one." he says, just because it's the first thing that pops into his head.

"You always tell me to wear red ones." she says, "Is it your favorite color or something?"

"Yes, it is." he says. "If you don't want to wear red, you could wear black."

"Black. I like it. This is why I ask you to make decisions for me." she says, "I'll put some red accessory in there just for you. Promise." she thinks for a while, "I have a lot of black dresses; you're being too general. Which one do you think would be best?"

"Picking out a dress to wear is something you can do by yourself, you looked fine a while ago."

Éponine nods, pulling two out of the closet. "Yes, then I met you." she replies, nonchalantly, "And now, I need to run every decision I make by you, because you're that brilliant. Isn't it flattering?"

"No it isn't." he says, sitting down and making a groan of frustration. "Really, Éponine, I'm your lawyer, not your mother." She snorts. "I don't want to make decisions for you anymore."

She pouts. "But, Enjy–"

"What happened to not calling me that?"

"You're the _best_ at making decisions. That's why I hired you." she says, "How long have we been working together? Seven, eight months? Pick a dress." He points at the one on the left.

"Eight." he says, "And I really think that we should _stop_ at eight." He takes a pause before carefully going over his next words. "Consider this my two weeks notice."

She immediately drops both onto the floor, the hangers making a clanging sound that is just too irritating. "What?" she asks, slowly, as if trying to comprehend it.

"I don't want to work for you anymore."

Éponine laughs. "This is some kind of joke, right?"

He shrugs. "I could always go back to working for legal aid."

"But you're _my_ lawyer." she says, "Remember what I said? You're the best."

"Which gives me plenty of opportunities–"

"I'm not going to let you quit just like that." she says, "What about the building?" She's picked up the dress by now, and is looking through different pairs of red shoes. "Turn around, I'm going to change."

He does as told, but continues talking. "I'll find someone else for you." he suggests, "I can train him or her for two weeks before quitting, then you'll have someone else you can boss around."

"I don't know." she says, "It's funner when it's _you_ I'm bossing around. Not that I'm bossing you around, _merde_. I mean, it's funner to be around you than other people."

"Funner is not a word."

"Oh, shut up." she says, "Turn around, tell me what you think."

He does and says, "Great." without really looking at her at all. "Back to the more important subject at hand–"

"The most important subject at hand would be the dress, don't you think?" she remarks, looking at herself in a mirror. "After all, you left a wedding for it. Zip me up."

He glares at her, does as told, and continues. "Are you allowing me to quit or not?"

She looks thoughtful, kind of worried, actually, before sighing. A smile is suddenly on her face, which worries _him_. "Fine."

"Wait, what?"

"You said you want to quit," she says, shrugging. "Here's your opportunity."

For the first time since he arrived at the apartment, he smiles.

* * *

**AN**: It might be a while before I update next because school is kind of hectic. Thanks for reading!


End file.
